


other fuckers don't know how to act

by half_a_league, whittler_of_words



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Crack, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-12 18:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1195314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/half_a_league/pseuds/half_a_league, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Title: In which Karkat Vantas is buff. And also hot. And no one is prepared for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Sexyback" by (Troll) Justin Timberlake  
> hal==> this is a terrible fic and this is your official warning for that terribleness
> 
> wow==> shhh just don't question it. embrace the crack. _embrace it_.

==> Be Karkat

You are now Karkat Vantas.

You move toward the lit hive slowly. It’s a tall bright space in the otherwise dark desert, one that you ache to be inside and one that you dread to approach. Eight sweeps old and you have finally gotten Crabdad to let you go, which was no small feat. And now you’re huddled behind an outcrop of rocks, chickening out.

The dark ball of self-hatred in your chest feels familiar; a metallic taste in your mouth that beats in your head, a low steady thump. The sign on your shirt is grey, and you’ve checked yourself every step of the way for injuries that you might have accrued, any break in your skin that might give you away and spoil the whole thing.

You’re safe, as safe as you’re going to get walking into a stranger’s hive with mutant blood, intent on meeting people you’ve talked to for sweeps but never met before. 

But you’re still huddled against the rocks, head ducked down, trying not to breathe too hard. Because you’ve never met any of them before and not only is there a chance you’re not going to walk out of there, but there’s a bigger problem.

_What if they don’t like you?_

==> Be someone who isn’t a self-conscious chump 

You are now Vriska Serket.

==> I said someone who _isn’t_ a self-conscious chump

You are now Eridan Ampora.

==> How many times am I going to have to say this

You are now the narrator and extremely certain that there is no way to fill that command, unless you want to move to another universe. Do you want to move to another universe?

==> Fine, just be someone who isn’t Karkat

You are now Gamzee Makara and you are having a great motherfucking time. 

You’ve been chilling in your jade-blooded sister’s hive for a few days now, waiting for all your friends to arrive, and all of you to get your party on. Now you’re just waiting for your best friend in the entire universe to get here.

[==> Be Korkot Vontos ](http://kanayadasgray.tumblr.com/post/76906651788/kitten-burrito-meulinlajayjay)

You can’t be Korkot Vontos because there is no one in Alternia who is that stupid and still alive.

==> Be K _a_ rk _a_ t V _a_ nt _a_ s

You are now Karkat Vantas. In the space of time it took the reader to get bored of Gamzee, you have manned up.

You are going into that hive. You are going to greet all of your friends. You are going to stop hiding behind a pile of rocks like a snivelling grub because that is unfitting of a man. Adult. Full grown troll that you almost are.

You are going to get up any second now and bust into that hive. You are going to be the life of the party.

Its only life.

Any minute now, you swear.

==> Have your choice taken away from you

“AC stalks through the desert, certain she has found pawsible prey!”

“The mighty huntress prowls around a clump of rocks, smelling the air for her quarry!”

“Nepeta, perhaps now is not the time for your roleplaying shenanigans. Kanaya was quite certain she saw something.”

You’ve never heard those voices before, but only one of your friends likes pretending to be a cat and there’s only one possible troll on Alternia that can manage to sound that fussy in a single paragraph of dialogue.

==> Wait, what?

What? There is only one troll that can sound that fussy in a single conversation. 

==> You said paragraph of dialogue

You can’t have pawsibly… Er, _possibly_ said paragraph because you are far too busy revealing yourself to your friends.

==> Reveal yourself to your friends

You hear Nepeta huff at Equius and decide now is a good time to stand up and say hello. Waiting any longer will only make her impatient, and you’ve heard from reliable sources that when she gets impatient, she pounces on people.

And you abso-fucking-lutely cannot risk getting scratched if she pounces on you.

Very carefully, without hesitating at all, because you’re not a chump, despite what any reader might think, you stand up.

==> Hah! You just pointed out the reader

You couldn’t have pointed out any hypothetical readers because for the last fucking time. You. _Are. **Busy.**_

==> Alright, but I’ve got my eye on you

You are oblivious of any eyes that might be on you other than troll eyes because at the moment you have decided to give up your sweet, sweet rock cover and confront your friends.

The night air tastes sweet and faintly chalky as you draw in a huge breath to calm your rising panic and take in the first view of your buddies. 

Nepeta is exactly as you pictured her; average height, smiling, and utterly pitiable.

Not that you pity her in any way shape or form! Wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea!

And Equius is… also like you pictured him. He’s close to your height, maybe an inch or two shorter than you, and sweating faintly. 

And both of them are just staring at you and not saying anything.

You wonder, irrationally, panicking, if you’ve got a cut on your face that you didn’t notice until now. Or do they somehow know already?

==> Panic

You have no reason to panic because you are currently Feferi Peixes and everything is going absolutely swimmingly!

After feeding Gl’bgolyb with Eridan, just to make sure that she doesn’t get hungry while you’re gone, you’ve made the trip out to the desert to gather with all your friends. And you’re GLUBBING --EXCIT---ED!

Except you have to be careful not to say the g-word around Equius because he starts sweating a carp-load and Nepeta has to get him more towels.

But he’s not here right now! Kanaya sent him out to investigate something she saw in the distance. Or, Kanaya sent out Nepeta and he decided to go with her. You are free to glub away.

Glub glub glub!

==> That’s enough now. Wouldn’t want to have to bump this rating up for swearing

Okay, you’ll try to rein yourself in from now. But sometimes you just can’t help it and the glubs slip out.

==> Well, give it your best shot

You can do that!

You make sure to keep your lips pressed together. Wouldn’t do to have an accident, especially as you can hear footsteps outside the hive now. Eridan shoots you a worried look and you make a kissy face at him.

He’s such a worry-wort, always trying to stop you from doing “embarrassin’” things. 

Maybe this will help him loosen up! You know that he and Karkat are friends (even if he always mutters about some weird pact when you talk about Karkat), and hopefully once your final friend gets here, Eridan will relax.

But the louder the footsteps get, the more worried he looks. He’s looking kind of eel, in fact.

Well, you’re not surprised that it happened.

==> Retreat with your moirail

As inconspicuously as possible, you herd Eridan out of the room. He’s needed the pile twice already and you’ve only been here a day. But, you guess that meeting new people can be scary, especially when you’re someone like Eridan.

You’re both just so \--EXCIT----ED! But your short nubby friend will have to wait.

==> Be the short nubby friend

You can’t be the short nubby friend because there is not a friend present who is short _and_ nubby.

==> Be the tall nubby friend?

You are now the nubby friend in question, and you are prowling ahead of your meowrail and newly met friend.

==> Wrong nubby perso- You know what? Nevermind. Keep being Nepeta

As you were saying, befur being so rudely interrupted, you are prowling ahead because if you walk along with them, or even _behind them_ , your blood pusher will start doing an uncomfortable thing and you will turn a very unattractive green. 

There is only room for one person with a sweat-problem in this meowraillegiance, and it is not going to be you!

Especially when you only brought one change of pants and you are afraid that you are going to need them when you get back.

==> Be someone who understands what’s happening

There is no one who currently understands what is happening.

==> Be someone who’s about to understand what’s happening

You are now Vriska Serket and you know what’s happening.

==> Isn’t there someone el-

What’s happening is you are currently getting really tired of the reader. You know what’s happening because you know everything. Eeeeeeeeverything.

==> Okay, fine, whatever

Now that you’ve established this very important and obvious fact, you’re free to move the story along with your awesome powers of-

_Door opening._

You’ve been hearing noises outside for forever!!!!!!!! And you are sick and tired of waiting for those losers to come back, so you’re going to go out to them.

You open the door (Shit! Sorry, Tavros! You shouldn’t have been standing by a door anyway, don’t you know how dangerous these things are?) and march outside. As you knew - because you know everything - they’re just kind of standing around staring at each other like chumpy chumps.

At first you’re a little bit confused at what you’re seeing. 

Which is perfectly normal!

What kind of sick freak would expect a girl with one eye to have perfect vision? Also it’s dark outside and you weren’t expecting a second Equius.

Rude of Kanaya not to tell you that she invited someone else. She can be so inconsiderate sometimes! You will have to remind her of this fact after you escort _her_ guest in. Maybe you should remind her about a hostess’s duties, too?

The cat-girl that you totally don’t roleplay with sometimes skirts past you and goes into the house without even saying hello. You know you saw her about half an hour ago, but it’s still rude. Why are you always surrounded by rude people?

==> Discern new guest’s identity

You’re getting there! It’s a delicate process that can’t 8e rushed so everybody needs to shut up and let you work!

“Who the hell are you?”

Nice and smooth does it. You are the pinnacle of courtesy and social grace. 

The tall mysterious stranger turns toward you, and in the light from the open door you catch sight of his shirt. It’s grey.

Sollux’s shirt is grey too, and so is Gamzee’s. A grey shirt wouldn’t be a problem, even if it is a crime against fashion, except this shirt is just grey.

There is only one asshole that you know who’s rude enough to wear his sign in grey so you can’t properly put him in his place, and it hits you a second later, like an eight ball to the head.

This is Karkat.

But your problems are just beginning, you can tell. It’s not just his rude shirt that makes you clench your fists and suck in a breath.

Karkat Vantas is ripped. No, not justed ripped. Karkat Vantas is _hot_ , and he wasn’t even polite enough to warn all of you before hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which pansies are named, and mistakes are had.

==> Be the hot person

You are now Erida-

==> You are fooling no one and this is kind of embarrassing to watch

You are now Karkat Vantas and you had no idea it was even physically possible for a troll to sweat that much. It’s worrying you a little bit, the sheer amount of liquid that Equius Zahhak is excreting through his skin. You’re not even sure if trolls carry that much liquid in their bodies.

Also, he’s squelching while he walks and it’s pretty disgusting.

If these are omens for the visit to come, then maybe you’re better off just turning around and going home.

==> Persist despite your fear

You are not _afraid_. You’re just being cautious.

==> Suck it up you goddamn pansy

You are now Erida-

==> Not that pansy

You are now Sollu-

==> Just fucking go back to being Nubby McNubbins

You are now Korkot Vontos.

Life has been CRUEL to you.

==> I give up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hal==> and that's it for this week folks  
> wow==> see you in seven days


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a melodramatic character debates his current existence, and two lovers meet. [Again.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hal==> lol jk  
> wow==> PSYCHE LOL

You are now Tavros Nitram and the ground has once again welcomed you into its warm embrace. You lie there, considering you life choices, when you hear voices. 

This is not a normal occupation for you. The voices of the dead and the voices of the damned owe attention to other friends of yours, and you do not believe you are concussed enough to be hallucinating. 

==> Consider the possibility you have died via door/Vriska collision

If you have died, then this must be hell, because you will take no other post-death option where that voice is present. 

“Kaaaaaaaarkaaaaaaaat!”

Oh how the screeches of that hellish harpy fill your ears. Truly, you must have been a bad person to deserve this fate.

Perhaps, if you are lucky, the ground will fully embrace you, and you will know only the whispers of the earth.

==> Be assisted by one of your quadrant mates

Your quadrants mates, while perfectly willing to complain to you about their problems, are nowhere to be found when you are in need. 

==> Be assisted vertical again by the handsome stranger

The handsome stranger approaches, offers you his hand, and pulls you to your feet with ease and grace. His muscles ripple, and he shows no effort at all during the act. 

Perhaps

Perhaps this is not hell after all.

==> Is it hell or isn’t it

As something small and hard and fast bowls you over again, you rejoin with the ground. This time, you will stay here, in the safety of the dirt. But, to help ease your suffering a bit, you roll over enough that you can see what’s happening.

But mostly so you can see the handsome stranger.

==> Be someone less melodramatic

You are now Karkat Vantas, and you have qualified for this position, _barely._

Currently, you are less concerned with that fact than the fact that one of your friends is lying in the dirt, another is sweating out his body weight in water, and a third is screaming for her kismesis at the top of her lungs. 

==> Flee

You cannot flee because now, faster than you thought possible, a small teal limpet has attached itself to you and is licking your face.

==> Be the small teal limpet

Holy shit Karkat Vantas tastes amazing. 

Better than the rich red of tree fruit, better than Miss Blueberry when she’s dripping blood and desperate for you, better than the hot thick taste of JUST1C3. 

You could spend the rest of your life licking this troll.

==> Be the troll unpeeling another troll from himself

Terezi’s literally got her claws stuck in you. She’s holding on tighter than a small, black bloodsucking swamp worm. Your yelling is mostly on instinct at this point. Come back later.

==> Uh, be someone else, I guess

You are now Gamzee Makara. From your vantage point of chillin’ by the houseplant, you can see the door and beyond that, the dark space of the night. Also, your Tavbro, communing with the earth again.

That motherfucker is nice, but he sure is weird.

You can also hear lots of loud noises, which your elegant and chill motherfucking hostess, not to mention frightening as fuck auspistice, has gone to investigate. 

It looks a little bit like, “OhmygH31SD3LodTerezi!1C1OUS!>:]uH,TerezAREYOUOiPyroKAYpeGetOffOfHimThisissoveryThisInstant100d”

And then, louder than the rest of it, you hear, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU HUGE SHITSQUATTING CRETINS DOING!”

That looks an awful lot like your best diamond’s hateful shouting, and all the ruckus is stirring up your curiosity something awful, so you wander out and down to see what’s happening.

You’re not sure, but it looks like everyone’s having a huge motherfucking hug party. Your friends might be a sure-as-sopor hateful bunch of acquaintances, but they sure do know how to do affection right when the mood hits them. You’re not even that down and out disappointed that you’re not the first to hug Karbro. 

In fact, right now you might be the only one not hugging Karkat, so you have to rectify that. You don’t even mind when spidersis elbows you in the face. 

Man, does everyone flail like this all the time? Kind of dangerous, might put an eye out. Especially, your Karbro; his eyes would be right at flail level, right?

Just as you’re kinda considering doin’ a little head-magic to clear the way, someone shoves into you real hard and bonks their head into yours. Kind of makes your ganderbulbs water a bit, and when you blink it away, the motherfucker is reeling back and screaming louder, all “WHAT THE EVERLOVING FUCK! IS YOUR HEAD MADE OF FUCKING BRICKS AND SOLIDIFIED GREY BUILDING MATERIAL! DO YOU WANT TO KILL PEOPLE BY HEADBUTTING THEM AND HAVE THUS ALTERED YOUR SKULL TO RETAIN A WEIGHT AND SHAPE WORTHY OF BEING CONSIDERED A STRIFE MODUS!”

It’s motherfucking serendipitous, that out of all the trolls you managed to bump into, it was your sugar-and-starlight palemate. You’re so damn pleased that you can’t not crush him against you and hug the shit out of him.

He makes a kind of angry noise, all growl and snarl, and tucks his face into your neck.

==> Be the troll having the shit hugged out of him

You are Karkat Vantas and you’re pretty sure that Terezi stuck her claws in deep enough that you’re bleeding.

You’re bleeding a bright fucking red color that no troll should ever see, much less have coursing through their veins, sent flowing by your traitorous blood pusher, while a _**Subjugglator**_ HuGs tHe sHiT OuT Of yOu. 

==> Freak the fuck out

You are currently FREAKING THE FUCK OUT.

You are too young to die.

You are

you are

you are currently being shooshed

==> Be someone not getting it on. Please. For the love of whatever gods exist

You are now Eridan Ampora and your palemate is currently brushing through your hair. You have never purred this hard in-

==> What did I just say

You are now Nepeta Leijon and you have finally changed into a fresh pair of pants. After taking a nice, cold shower. 

You have never been more grateful for Kanaya’s nice, thick, sound-proof walls. 

==> That- that is not current, so I guess it’ll do

Of all the things you expected when you met Karkitty, you didn’t expect him to be, well, such a hunk. If he was a plainsbeast and you were, well, you, you’d be bathing in his blood. But he’s not, he’s Karkitty, and you’re, you’re hiding in a bathroom because you only brought one change of pants and you’re not sure if you or your blood pusher can take that again.

You think you need an emergency session with your moirail.

==> Okay I think i can see where this is going. I’m done here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are we terrible? possibly. are we liars? definitely.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the reader attempts a harrowing new point of view and a certain pair of moirails perform a scandalous act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hal==> 381 hits? *tea kettle noises*  
> wow==> *leaf noises*

You are Karkat Vantas and you have joined the ranks of trolls hiding in bathrooms.

==> Wait, what, when did this happen

While the reader was busy with other characters, you have managed to thoroughly abscond from having tHe sHiT HuGgEd oUt oF yOu. Barely. Biting may have been involved, but you plead innocent to any other depraved acts such as  


  1. bone bulge kicking  

  2. troll wet-willies  

  3. hugging back 



You were not raised in a barn, and have, after all, managed to retain some sense of decorum. Decorum that insists that you wait until you are sequestered away to continue FREAKING THE FUCK OUT.

==> Okay, enough with the weird formatting. Get on with it

Safe in your tiled, towel-filled sanctuary, you strip off your shirt, and consider your chest. The damage isn’t that bad, because Terezi is a small, weak meowbeast and you’re not, you know, _two_. She left five tiny puncture wounds on both sides of you, right above your center grubscars, and it didn’t even bleed that much. 

You’ve bleed more practicing with your sickles; this is wriggler shit. 

Dad made sure you took plenty of medical supplies, considering your _affliction_ , and it takes two bandaids to provide a quick fix. Disaster fucking averted.

==> That was surprisingly undramatic

As you said, you are _not two_ , and thus able to deal with piddly-shit injuries and happenstance, _thank you very much_.

==> Don’t take that tone with me, young troll

You are currently unable to take a tone with anyone because you are now Kanaya Maryam’s potted plant.

Your life is simple and filling. You are set out in the sun during the mornings and taken in during the evenings. You provide oxygen and genteel decor, along with a whimsical sense of style. You are watered and pruned on a strict schedule to promote maximum growth and bloomability. You are currently being used as a full body shield and if you had the capacity for emotion, you would be feeling deep concern 

The young troll holding you is making worrying noises and has managed to spill a small amount of your soil. 

Alas, though you would not choose to alter your existence in any way, it leaves you with the inability to move beyond turning yourself toward the sun.

You can only sit and wait for rescue.

==> Why am I a potted plant

As a plant, you have no capacity to understand language.

If you could, though, this is what you would hear being yelled around you.

4ND WHY D1D YOU NOT T3LL Gamzee I’m disappointed in you. US TH1S 1MPORT4NT 1NFORM4T1ON? We thought for suuuuuuuure Wwait wwhat did you’d sh8re. ;;;;D wwe miss mAYBE WE SHOULD Gamzee Please Put My ALL TAKE A MOMENT,, AND CALM DOWN, Plant Down yOu mOtHeRfUcKeRs nEeD To uP AnD StOp sTaRiNg Did Karpkat get aT Me lIkE ThAt iT’S AlL MaKiNg a gUy kInDa nErVoUs )(--ER--E?! 38D Gamzee Be Careful With TH3 PROS3CUT1ON F1NDS TH3 D3F3ND4NT GU1LTY OF LY1NG! My Plant PR3P4R3 TO P4Y TH3 PR1CE! Terezi No Put The Cane cHiCa’s cRaZy! Down

…

…

… 

Error: Point of View Not Found

==> Wait, what, no. Be the potted plant

You cannot be the potted plant because the potted plant is busy being picked up carefully and rushed to a new, non-shattered pot.

==> Shit. Okay. Uh, be someone else

You are now Kanaya Maryam’s wall, and you mourn the downfall of your compatriot. Truly was there never a braver, kinder, more compassiona-

==> Someone alive. Wait

>:?

==> Be someone alive and a troll

You are now Equius Zahhak and you count as alive. Barely. By the skin of your broken teeth.

==> ???????????????????????????

The reason you are nearly dead is that your meowr- Ahem. Moirail is holding onto your neck excruciatingly tightly and making whimpering noises. 

The moment you entered your shared sleeping block, intent on changing your shirt and Captchaloguing more towels, she bombarded you with a  
:33 < HUGPOUNCE!  
:33 < :((

The hugpounce, in itself, is not an unusual event, but the fact that she then refused to let go is worrying. While Nepeta sometimes suffers anxiety around others, she’s behaved with grace and social standing for the entire two days you’ve been here, and seemed at ease around all the others.

The noise she’s making into your neck transforms into words, slowly. It sounds remarkably like

“Kaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrkkkkkiiiittttttyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!”

Her behavior is thrust into remarkable clarity.

“Perhaps, ah, we should relocate,” you suggest, and she adjusts her hold around your neck. Clearly, because you are the one who has a problem with your current local, you are expected to do all the work.

“You have two perfectly healthy legs,” you admonish her, but stand and allow her to cling to you like a baby monkey clings to its mother. Your pile, positioned past the recuperacoons, is mostly made of her things, because they smell like her hive, and she rolls off of you to snuggle into them. You place yourself carefully on the handful of robot pieces she insisted you contribute and wait. Nepeta does things in her own time and trying to force her to speak usually ends in you bleeding while she stalks away hissing.

It doesn’t take her very long today. She’s distressed; understandable considering the shenanigans that drove her to flee, and when she smashes her face back into your neck, she’s whining again.

“That is truly an unbecoming sound,” you tell her, and in response, she bites at you. The burst of pain is sharp and unpleasant, but you’re well versed in Nepeta now, and you stroke her hair and wait until she unfastens her teeth from the tendons in your neck. She hardly ever does significant damage, and for one as STRONG as you, her attempts are not worthy of concern.

When she unfastens her teeth, it’s to make a noise like a boiling kettle and say, all in a rush, “He’s so, so attractive, I don’t know what to do, I need to wash my clothes and it’s messing up all my shipping chaaaaarrtsssssss!!!”

The end is more a growl and a hiss than anything, and you shoosh her until she quiets down. 

“Nepeta, you enjoy challenges to your charts. You’ve told me that before.”

“Not like this!”

More hair petting, as she simmers and vibrates at your side. After a while, she says, “Karkitty, though.”

You can see where this is going. 

==> Wait, where is this going

“Perhaps now is not the best time, Nepeta.”

She whines, and says, “His shirt stuck _to his chest_.”

“Nepeta, maybe this could wait for another-”

“His muscles were bigger than yours!”

Purrsperation, urm, perspiration, is gathering along your brow, and you wipe at it with your hand. “Nepeta, please!”

==> Oh no, I can see where this is going

“His shame globes-”

“Nepeta-”

“-could rival-”

“-cease with this lewd-” You need, you need a towel _right now_.

“-a _statue’s_ -”

“-language-” Your clothes are becoming damper. You must get her to stop.

“-and you know-”

“-right this-”

“-you want-”

“Nepeta!”

“-him!”

There is no other option. She’s driven you to the point of desperation, and as she cries, “Ew, Sweatquius! These were my _clean_ clothes and your nasty sweat is turning them _blue_!” you push her off you gently and tickle her.

She shrieks and tries to abscond, but she’s not quick enough, and it takes seconds to have her crying with laughter and screaming for you to stop. But you know that if you give in, she’ll go back to the previous subject, and not even the elbow you take to the face can stop you.

By the time she’s given in and is laughing between gasps for breath, she’s gotten so loud that you barely hear the door open but you most definitely hear, “Uh, guyth? Are you okay?” and then the sound of something being dropped.

Oh, the depravity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hal==> would anyone be interested in a livewrite of this (think like a livestream but so much more lamer than a livestream)  
> wow==> if the answer to that question is no, consider the following: _shenanigans_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lithping noises and doom. And (almost) certain doom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAL==> deep confusion over this fic's hit count  
> WOW==> deep concern over our readers' sanity

==> Be the guy with the lips

All available characters currently have lips. Which one?

==> _Lisp! I meant lisp_

You are now the guy with the lithp and you deeply regret opening that door. What you saw behind it will scar you for life. Soon, you will enter therapy with your moirail, and be consoled for the horrifying sight you were subjected to.

==> Yeah, okay. Soon. But what about now

Now, though, you are going downstairs, which was your first plan, before you were distracted.

==> Tell me you’re not going to do anything sappy. I’ve had enough of sappy things

You’re going downstairs by request of your much beloved moirail, and-

==> Bitch what did I just say

-while you would do anything for her, you’re drawing the line at dying without a cause other than 0h jegus ahahahaha s0llux g0 g0 d0wnstairs hahahahahaha

==> I am … intrigued. Go on

Normally, you’d humor her faster than you could trump Eridan with your psionics, but first, there was the iinciident, of which you will speak no more of except in low tones in the dead of day, and now it’s the small matter of the _**chainsaw that you can hear running downstairs, over-spaced by distant cackling.**_

Also, the voice in your head, which is HONKing at an alarming rate. 

==> e-e

The sound before, that had overcome you while you were trying to calm your trembling giggling moirail, had been easy to ignore. The ominous rustle of leaves in a sad wind had almost been pleasant, but this noise is an entirely different basket of bees.

==> _e-e_

The voice itself doesn’t disturb you. You’ve heard them as long as you can remember, and while you used to make a game about guessing what would make them give up the ghost 0u0, the novelty has long, long worn off. But the horrifying racket it’s making can only be caused by one troll and one troll alone.

==> Follow the noise

That is actually the last thing you want to do, numbnuts. 

==> _Follow the noise_

You follow the noise, but only to get the haunting echo of bolded italics out of your head. And to spite those overused type styles, you go very very slowly.

The first thing you notice, other than that large scattering of dirt and shards of pottery, is that there are two people cackling. This pleases you. It also disturbs you. The prices you pay for x2 combos are fitting.

The second thing you notice is the most important thing, which is Kanaya Maryam, clutching a roaring chainsaw in one hand, a plant in the other, and threatening her ashmates with near-certain death by gardening tool.

==> Shit! Separate them!

Excuse me?

==> She’s going to kill them! Do something

That is

_**disgusting**_.

You don’t know what type of troll this voice thinks you are, but you are certainly not _that_ kinky! Those times with Aradia, the pile of towels, and the fake blood was a complete two-off!

As it is, there’s no way you’re getting between them. Not only would it be the biggest, kinkiest thing you’ve ever done, but you would die. Even if you were hopped up on mind honey, and completely focu2ed, there’s no way you’d survive that chainsaw.

You don’t ever think you’ve been completely focused in your short, depressing life. So, considering how distracted you are, the short ~~scream~~ _shout_ you utter is perfectly understandable as warm, slightly sunburned arms wind their way around your waist.

==> Get the arms

Eeeeeeeeveryone here currently has arms. But considering you are the closest to being armless, and therefore the _most 8adass_ , you will take on this dangerous job of narrating.

==> Please not this weirdo again

That is incredibly illogical statement considering the only weirdo here currently has her arms wrapped around a bee-obsessed sack of freaky sparks and rude asshattery.

==> Are you Vriska or Eridan

Clearly only one of those people is awesome enough to handle this situation!

==> So you _are_ Eridan

What you are is happily quadranted both _pitch aaaaaaaand ash_ , so a _certain someone_ needs to stop hate-flirting with you.

==> Excuse you! I was not flirting with any-

8ut you are too busy to deal with such dumb petty attempts at true hatred because you are currently aware that your ugly other lobe of the club knows something that you don’t, and that is unacceptable.

Un.

Ac.

Cept.

A8le!

==> Can we go somewhere with a little less drama please

You are now TALLIS VERAIN.

Your main interests include EXTREME SPORTS: ACUPUNCTURE and MOUTHING OFF TO PEOPLE YOU SHOULDN’T. In your spare time you also enjoy OGLING HOT TROLLS.

You are currently DEAD.

==> You know what? As long as there’s not more quadrant drama, I just don’t care anymore

You cannot participate in any quadrant-related drama because, as previously stated, you are **DEAD** , and such dealings are usually frowned upon in your society.

However, being dead does not mean you are blind, and you know a hot slice of shame globes when you see one.

And you know that you saw one, a _really_ nice one, around twenty minutes ago.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porno music plays in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAL-->i don't even know what to say about this  
> WOW-->*bow chicka wowow*

==> Be the mysterious new ghost character about twenty minutes ago

Normally, you don’t make a habit of following strange instructions from a non-existent voice, but because your view twenty minutes ago was so fine, you decide to go with it.

You are now you, twenty minutes in the past. 

You continue to be **DEAD** , as you have been for many sweeps. You have learned to endure in your current state of being corporeal-challenged, as this is not a condition that you see changing in the future.

==> Well obviously you can’t come back to life

You are being kind enough and considerate enough to be past you, so you are not going to take any sass.

Just because you are dead doesn’t mean you can’t put a boot through someone’s shame globes.

==> Well I just-

Boot. Ass. Now.

== > Fine! I’m sorry

While death was rumored to be painful and horrible, you’ve found those rumors to be greatly exaggerated. _Dying_ was painful (and kind of embarrassing, you never imagined you’d go out like that), but being dead has been fine. Until twenty minutes ago, when you saw the troll you would never be able to woo, attached to the ass you would never be able to touch.

Truly tragic.

==> Reminisce

You can’t do that because you are now past!you and you can’t reminisce about an event that hasn’t happened yet. Dumbass.

==> Grrrr. Relive then

You can’t relive it, because like you said before, you are **DEAD**.

==> JUST DO THE PAST THING

You’re getting there, but it would go faster if a certain someone would stop pitch-flirting with anything with legs. Most of their legs. Pieces of their legs. (Spider lady was right, you need to let it go, and just give up. You are not the stud of this story, non-existent voice.)

==> Wait, how did you know what she was thinking

_As you were saying_ , the pain of your situation is so tragic that it alone could have killed you, if not for obvious reasons.

You’re minding your own business, wandering up the long set of stairs, searching for the rustblood. Death is boring (1/10 would not recommend), but after dozens of sweeps wandering the desert, poking at the non-corporeal weapon in your non-corporeal chest, while thinking your own private non-corporeal thoughts, you finally found a distraction.

A rustblood who can see and talk to ghosts is a fucking blessing, man. Your l9rd is a kind, 6enev9lent l9rd, praise 6e unt9 him.

She’d been pretty patient with you, if a little creepy, what with the staring and smiling and evil-wriggler laughter. But she’s the first troll to talk to you that isn’t another murder victim, and so you’re using every chance you get, because goddamn do you love GOSSIP. You love it so much that it might even count as one of your main interests.

You obtained the most obscene piece of information about the blueblood (of all the people, you wouldn’t expect _that_ from him) and you _have_ to pass it on now that you have someone who’ll actually care about it. (You’re so tired of apathetic ghosts. Fine, you’re dead. But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep having fun. Jerks.)

You’re going up the stairs as fast as you can, which is pretty fast because floating over them is a thing now (ghosts for the win), and pass by a landing right as a door opens.

You flinch away on instinct, using your lightning fast reflexes that ages of sweeps haven’t managed to wear away, and you have never been more thankful for them.

They afford you about 10 seconds of gloriously muscled grey chest before the non-gloriously-muscled grey shirt covers it.

This is the closest you will ever get to seeing G9d.

Your heart, if it was corporeal, would have stopped beating. Your breath comes short. Faintly, you’re aware that the most bootylicious body you’ve ever seen walked through you. Your heart breaks. Dat ass will never know the loving touch of your fingers. Those silvery eyes will never look upon your leer. That handsome, pitiable face will never know the the touch of your hands.

Trembling, you sprint the rest of the way upon the stairs and tumble through the door. The rustblood and her pity-stud are hunched over a computer together, and you can’t help it. That troll has made you weak (damn the hotness), and you cry out, “( )h girl, if i was alive, i’d be ( )n that bulge faster than the spear that killed me!”

==> Be Aradia

Stepping as delicately as you can, you wind your way down the stairs, toward the mop of short hair and x2 horns you can just barely see. Your palemate makes the most hilarious noises when he’s surprised. The chance doesn’t come often, but you can tell, it’s come now, and you’re going to reap the benefits.

==> Be past Aradia

But that’s so boring! Wouldn’t you rather be alternate-universe!Aradia? 1920s!Aradia? Spy!Aradia? Robot!Aradia? Or, you could skip to the future and be dead!Aradia. Wouldn’t that be more interesting?

You’d be down for that, you promise! It would be better than shocking Sollux. 0u0.

==> Please, be past Aradia twenty minutes ago

Because it’s important to positively reinforce good behavior, like saying please and thank you, you’re now past!Aradia. 

==> Thank you

0u0. You’re welc0me.

~~Currently~~ Pastly, you’re hanging over Sollux’s shoulder, watching with bated breath as he tries to beat the third level in Subjugglators Versus Cavalreapers: Temple of Doom. So far neither of you have been able to figure out how to beat it, and while you’d usually look up some help on Trollgle, your plan is foiled by the sheer fact of the game being an illegal download before its release date.

He’s frowning in concentration, hunched over the controller, when you hear a sort of rattle-slurp-squelch. Your whip comes to your hand and you _whip around_ just in time to see the friendly brownblood ghost come tumbling through your door. 

She stands there trembling and panting, before saying something that makes your chest seize up and you start laughing.

It’s just the absurdity of the situation and the fact that you _know_ that only one person has yet to arrive, and what this means. _What it means._

It’s getting hard to breathe but you can’t stop laughing. The table thumps, and Sollux growls, light, but irritated, when you lean against it. The ghost in front you opens her mouth and makes a rude gesture with her fingers.

Your stomach clenches uncomfortably, and you shudder, clutching at the table. Sollux stops growling immediately, and then the ruthless sounds of military-on-juggalo fighting stops.

It’s the little things that let you know that he’s truly pale for you.

But there’s more important things right now than your sweetie. Like that fact that you really can’t breathe. You can’t even really make noise anymore; you just sort of flap your hands and hope he understands.

“AA! Are you okay! Are you choking? Oh gog, did thomething happen?” He grabs at your arm, his claws digging in tightly, and shakes you a little bit.

Your stomach clenches again, and you start coughing on the inhale. You haven’t laughed like this since Eridan and Vriska got “ _tangled up_ ” in a “ _net_ ” during a “ _campaign_ ”. 

The floor is very soft under your face. It smells like dust and perfume, and now, like the console Sollux has set up on the desk. The desk that he brought with him, because he didn’t trust the stability of any found in the unknown wiild2. (0f kanayas hive? 0_0 ye2 of KN’2 hiive you never can be two prepared.)

In fact, the floor smells overbearingly of the sickly electric scent of honey and heat. There is something faintly sticky under your face, too. But all you can think is that Sollux won’t need the mind honey during this visit. One look at a certain guest will do the same thing (don’t eat the miind honey AA. why 0_0 thiing2 wiill happen two you 2exy thiing2? 0u0)

A hand grabs you by the neck of your shirt and hauls you backward. A clean patch of floor is presented and you go back to flopping and noiseless laughing. There’s a thump and a chirring noise as something goes off (did he turn off the computer for you? so romantic) and then hand2 are hauling you over onto your back.

A hand paps you sharply.

==> I’m sorry but this is a _teen and up audience_

He touches your face.

==> _Teen and up_

He does the _moirail thing_ to you sharply.

==> Thank you

Then he does it again, and hauls you up into a sitting position. This helps a bit, mostly with the not being able to breathe.

“AA? AA, I’m going to get Kanaya.”

That means he needs to go downstairs. That he will _go downstairs without you there to see his face._ This is unacceptable.

You grab his shirt sleeve when he tries to stand up, and tug him back down. His head hits the table. You reavaluate your strength. 

“AA? I will paint your nailth. I will comb your hair when it getth wet. I will thit up with you and lithen to you talk about your dumb ashmateth all night. But if you want me to thtay, you need to calm down.”

You take a deep breath. Well, a deeper breath than before. You ignore the flailing specter behind Sollux. You think calming thoughts.

You think about the noise Vriska will make when she realized that you know what Karkat looks like shirtless, thanks to your little spoopy buddy and her big mouth.

“I know what that face meanth,” Sollux declares, and stands up. “No more thtupid ash thingth.”

He stands up, but only goes back to the computer. You’re safe for the moment.

You wait patiently, until he’s turned the computer back on (He only put it on sleep, at least he has his gaming priorities straight.) before turning covertly to the ghost, still hovering patiently near the door of the room.

You have never smiled this hard, not in perigrees. Partially because you’ve been reliably informed that It Makes You Look A Bit Worrying, Dear, but also because there’s not really been anything to smile about, not like this. Not like the hilarity this will bring. 

And

the cha0s 0u0

==> Get on with it

0n0

==> Please get on with it

The ghost hovers closer to you, grinning furiously and flushing a deep brown. She looks exactly like how you feel, a wonderful mix between cha0s and ( )h hell yes.

==> I am deeply concerned

0 _u_ 0

==> Be someone else who’s less worrying

You are now Kanaya Maryam and you despair of your friends. And your quadrant mates. But mostly your quadrant mates. 

You had ever-so-graciously allowed them to come to your hive, for their FIRST OFFICIAL FUCKING MEETING OF THIS FRUITY ASSHOLE RUMPUS FACTORY and had expected, if anything, they would show your hive and your possessions some respect. But now, not only had they massively disrupted the lovely carpet of plants outside your hive with their tussling over who you believe was Karkat, though you weren’t quite sure due to _his_ lovely carpet of trolls, they had also 

_Destroyed_

your favorite house plant. Your baby, your absolute darling, §pYder George.

You cradle its new pot protectively to your chest, while you perform a one-handed chainsaw brandish. Gamzee, you are pleased to see, cowers in fear. It’s important to keep up a sense of wonder and terror in one’s ash life, you have learned. And this learning in no way involved magazines with titles like **Ashes, Ashes** or **Mistress Ember’s Guide To Being A Safe, Sexy Auspistice**.

These are also in no way crammed under your recuperacoon, for late day reading. 

You have found that there are only so many ways one can threaten trolls over Trollian. Despite the damage done to your hive, your are pleased that you may now continue your duties in person. 

Gamzee, however, seems less pleased. He cowers under your wrath, as is proper. Behind him, Terezi shrieks with glee. But just wait. She’ll get hers eventually. Her fate, which will _in no way_ involve a bottle of hot sauce, a fireplace, and a ten pound block of soap. 

==> TEEN AND UP!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAL-->for the record, the oc was wow's  
> WOW-->she's so sassy 0u0


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All hail the crab overlord.
> 
> All hail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hal==> to the peep on gigapause liveblogging the way through part of this piece of shit ur chill (also u motivated us to get this up)  
> wow==> hehehehehehe :3c

==> Let’s just be the main character

On exiting the bathroom, you are hit immediately with the sensation of a cold wind and a distant gleeful screaming. It feels as if a media-obsessed troll fanatic has passed right through your internal organs and out the otherside. It feels incredibly dirty. 

You tug your shirt back into place faster, like the thin layer of cotton can protect you from whatever just touched all your internal organs. 

It felt like _squee_.

Ahead of you, in the twisting vertical maze of Kanaya Maryam’s hive, is a door that has a scuff mark on it. It’s a familiar looking mark, like the ones your BeStFrIeNd left on several doors of your own fucking hive when he visited. 

It is the exact same mark that an idiot trying to ride a one-wheeled cycling device indoors leaves when he crashes into something.

And there is only one moronic shitsmoking motherfucker stupid enough to ride his idiot cycle this close to a set of stairs. Clearly it’s a miracle that you arrived when you did; this fucker could easily die without anyone to warn him.

You shoulder the door open without asking because you can hear alarmed honks coming from downstairs, and take it all in.

There’s two recuperacoons shoved together against a wall, and a huge fucking pile of horns laid out in front of it. That troll, you swear to god. It’s like he wants to wake up alarmed and confused when you manage to fucking step on one of them. No, yep, they need to go somewhere fucking else.

You Captchalogue the whole fucking mess and deposit it in the corner, the proper place for a pile that not even His Honorable Tyranny himself would pick to lie on, and then you unpack. Sort of. You making a fucking effort, and that’s all that counts.

When you step back and appraise your work, the emergency sickle lodged next to the ‘coon shines faintly in the dark. Good job, Karkat. 

==> At least make an effort, you bulgemunch

If there is a weapon right in your reach if you wake up in the middle of your day, accessible without dicking around with your Strife Specibus, _then you have made the only important effort_.

==> Fine, have it your way. Live like a paranoid fuckass on the run from the law

Those cursing skills are lame and the person with them should feel bad. Anyways, you are on the run from the law, as Terezi’s dastardly sharp claws and their brief excursion with your side should have made abundantly clear.

Now, safety while you sleep, _if_ you sleep, has been secured. There is…

There is nothing else to do here really.

==> Snoop

That is a terrible idea!

And, oh no, while you were considering how terrible an idea that was, your horrible wandering feet have brought you to the tattered canvas carrying device resting on the nearby table. And look, your fingers! Completely out of your control as you give the bag a poke.

The bag pokes you back.

You turn away to go find something more interesting to do and-

==> Wait

The _bag **poked you back**_. 

_**The bag** poked you back_.

==> I can’t tell which part you are more freaked out about

You are not freaked out at all! There is absolutely nothing to freak out about when an inanimate object touches you after you touch it. In fact, this is perfectly normal behavior for an object that is not living and THEREFORE _SHOULD NOT BE MOVING!_

==> Just open the damn thing

There is no way you would ever consider opening a suspicious moving carrying device that does not belong to you, and you have no way of telling what’s inside it. 

In fact, there is a higher chance of you having a successful hookup than you opening that fucking bag!

There is a higher chance of _your asshole hate-friends_ wanting to hookup _with you_ than of your prongs getting anywhere near the fasteners of that fucking thing. 

The bag makes a rasping sound and continues to move on its own. This is both interesting and mildly worrying. But mostly worrying. 

==> Poke it again, if you won’t open it

That is the second most stupid idea you have ever had in a lifetime of increasingly stupid fucking ideas. The first was clearly to come here; this trip has completely wrecked your nerves, with Terezi claws and high-pitched Vriska noises and unsettling hugs. Not to mention the fucking bag _that has somehow gained enough sentience to move_.

You need to do something. You need to

==> Poke the bag

_cull the bag_.

Your sickle springs to your hands like an eager barkbeast with an opportunity for some bloodshed. 

==> So, like a dangerous weapon

Your sickle, which is _nothing_ like a dangerous weapon, because it _is_ a dangerous weapon, is fully up for the job. You approach the bag, wielding Fleshfucker in front of you carefully, and poke the bag again. _Sharply. With the blade_.

The bag makes an irritated skreeing noise. 

Pure instinct makes you skree back. Pure instinct. Nothing. Else.

The bag continues to make skreeing noises. Crab noises. Irritated _crab noises_.

==> We’ve established this twice now, okay. We get it

_**Crab noises**_.

==> What is so important about the crab noise thing

_You just almost murdered a bag-crab_. 

==> Uh, freak out?

_You nearly killed a crab. That crab was nearly crabdead and Crabdad would. Not. Be. **Skree**_.

==> :?

_Pleased! He would not be pleased_.

==> rEsckue form this prisone

You rush to remove the crustacean from its canvas holding cell, cradling it carefully, and it scurries around your hands and pinches your fingers.

==> Who _the fuck_ just used a command, because that _was not me_

==> obeiy Youre overloard

==> Is that the

When the crab seems to discern that you have no intention of hurting it, it settles peacefully onto your hand and waits for you to decide what you’re going to do next. 

==> Ask the crab what the hell its

==> leAv the servent its’ pece fro we treet ours wel

Holding the crab as evenly as possible, you consider the other things inside the bag. You’ve already opened it; you doubt a little bit of snooping, while attempting to discern _why the everlasting fuck there was a crab in Gamzee’s bag_ , will hurt this situation any more.

There’s a shitload of slightly grimy clothes and what looks like some seaweed. You are both disgusted and slightly amused. This duality doesn’t please you because  


  1. You are not a freak. That big a freak.  

  2. There is no fucking two because see the above point, you spongedead nookscratcher. 



==> That’s, that’s still two points

3\. You just fucking failed. There is no disguising this fact.

==> Let it go, let it go-

You abandon trying to make any sense of either the terrible singing not echoing around your head, or the horrifying mess of your block-mate’s things. There is no sense in a Subjugglator. They will eat disgusting pies and croon stupid nonsense songs while gently brushing your hair, and apparently, _carry random fucking crabs in their things when they travel_.

Whatever. You found it, it’s yours now. All the crabs belong to us. You. Whatever fucking point of view the authors are now attempting.

==> I am too tired to go find more bricks and mortar so can you please, please, stop breaking the fourth wall

There is nothing of use in the room to you and your new friend. Pet. Friend. 

==> Overlord.

You retreat downstairs while the crab remains subdued, taking each step slowly because as you descend, the louder it becomes.

 _Chainsaws_.

You tremble. You whack your head on the low ceiling as a step drops with no space above. You continue trembling, while you clutch your crab and your head. This house was not built for tall people. 

_Headaches. #talltrollproblems_

The crab snaps its claws at your fingers insistantly, and you continue walking. The last flight twists to the left slightly, and as you take the turn, you see the heads of two more trolls, leaning together. 

You _can’t fucking believe it_.

Really?

REALLY?!

==> What

Of course that asshole would have two, _two!_ sets of horns.

Whatever. You have more important things to do. Like figure out what the fuck is up with your newly acquired crustacean.

You sweep past the trolls at the bottom of the stairs, barely manage to avoid hitting your head again, and locate the distressed, sweating face of your moirail.

==> Um. Who?

Best friend! Your best friend! You locate your best friend, goddamn your fucking fucked-up thinkpan, and approach. The grating chainsaw noise barely even bothers you anymore. You are a troll on a mission. 

As the crab waves his claws at the plant(?) clutched in your hostess’ hand, you set a hand on your hip and demand, “Gamzee, why _the ever lasting fuck_ was there a _crab_ IN YOUR BAG?!”

You present it to him, in case he forgot that it was there, and his face splits into a grin. You can see the greasepaint shine under the lights. It is _not_ adorable.

==> Be the main character’s moirail

Who?

==> Be the guy with the greasepaint

Just when you thought that your auspistice had all reached the end of her rope, your best friend appeared like a miracle, and the chainsaw roaring up in your face slowed and stopped bothering your pan so much. 

“Best friend!”

“Crab!” he snaps, and you get all up and a dozen kinds of confused until you see the thing he’s waving around like some kinda flag.

“Oh!”

“OH?!”

“You found my present for you!” 

How great, that the motherfucker went and found it on his own. He must have some kinda scuttlebeast detector, living with his Dad for so long.

He even sounds like them too, when he makes that weird skreeing noise at you and keeps waving his hands around. You don’t think the crab likes that; you don’t think it likes anything. It nearly took a chunk out of your thumb when all you up and did for it was offer it some motherfucking pie. :o(

==> Can we be someone else, please

When Gamzee starts spacing out, you kind of try and chuck the crab at his head. But it clings to you, barely, and you quickly recover your senses. Clutching it close, you quickly become aware that Gamzee is not the only on staring in your general direction. 

==> Observe the block

Terezi has stopped cackling and is doing something complicated with her eyebrows that you don’t want to understand. Vriska is clutching at her arm and turning blue. You don’t know what Tavros is doing, but you think he’s on the floor again?

If you twist around to look at the assholes behind you, it might make them think that you’re worried enough to want to pay attention to them. There is _no way you can let them think you’re weak_. The crab agrees.

==> Be the assholes behind him

… …

==> Urgh! Be the _two_ assholes behind him

you are you were 2o right 2o 0u0 turned on.

==> Be someone who is not the two assholes. Quickly! Please

The ~~royalty~~ sea dwellers are standing together, swaying faintly. You really don’t like the look in the eyes of who has to be Feferi. Something inside you says  noep and you direct your attention elsewhere. Immediately.

Half a step away from Gamzee, who, fuck is he drooling, is Kanaya, with her chainsaw lowered. She’s staring at you with this weird look on her face, and you are becoming uncomfortable very, very quickly. This is worse than whatever the hell passed through you earlier, because that was over quickly. This just drags on and on, until Gamzee is not the only one sweating.

==> Be the troll with the chainsaw

There is currently not a troll with a chainsaw.

==> Um, be the troll with the lipstick?

You are amazed. Your innermost thought rings throughout your head loudly, and it takes all your strength to keep your lipstick hefted up in a proper position.

==> Be the innermost thought

My Mind Is Telling Me No

But My Body

My Body Is Telling Me Yes

==> Uh

==> rUN weake flesh minoin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hal==> the next chapter isnt even finished, wow total break from pattern, so there might be a wait lol  
> wow==> an even longer one. we're sorry.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You win a safari! You win a safari! You all win shitty, shitty safaris!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAL==> u wanted an update. we give u an update. this is our gift to u  
> Wow==> merr christmas nerds

You are now Karkat Vantas and you are deeply confused and afraid. Shortly after **The Most Awkward and Prolonged Silence of Your Life Ever** you were escorted to a kitchen table, sat down with your crab, a potted plant that you _just know_ is judging you, and ordered to stay there while Kanaya  Finished Some Business Dont Worry About It Karkat

The kitchen, which is neater and cleaner than the one in your hive, was empty when you were escorted in there by your friend, the plant, and a suspicious tube of lipstick, but it has slowly filled with other trolls, who you feel are also judging you.

You are deeply aware that you spent the last two nights crossing a desert, that your pants are still sandy, and that if you start blushing it’ll be difficult to hide it in a room this bright.

You wonder if there’s an easy way to break the light bulb suspended in the tasteful, chic lamp hanging above you.

==> Dude, she has a chainsaw. You probably shouldn’t try anything

As afraid as you are of lipstick, especially a shade that powerful and green, a stunning fashion accessory for young jade bloods everywhere, you might have to do something to the lamp. It is your enemy; it is your betrayer; it is a helpful thing to stare at as you pretend that Tavros Nitram isn’t staring at _you_ and possibly having a seizure.

His eyelids continue to move alarmingly. You have seen feral crab-dogs act more natural. You wish for your sickle and the comforting enclosure of your moirail’s arms.

Best friend.

BEST FRIEND.

YOUR BEST FRIEND GOD FUCKING DAMMIT.

You wish for the sturdy protection of a weapon and a disposable meatshield. Of which you would pick your friend. Your acquaintance is so high he probably wouldn’t notice if a metal-legged crazy took a chunk out of him. The stranger with the face paint would probably just laugh and call the crazy his bEsTfRiEnd

The title means nothing. He probably calls everyone that. No difference to you. Thinking about him calling someone else that doesn’t bother you at all. 

Not.

One.

Skreeing.

Bit.

==> Be someone not having a crisis

hte plan is motoin. soOn.

==> Uh, be someone human?

You are now Dave Strider and goddamn is this irony meter going off the charts tonight. It started way before you brought out your SICK BEATS and ILL JAMS to impress your best bro and your breast bros, and the natural ambience of irony and amusing as fuck fuckery has only made the rapping come quicker and smooth. You’re on a motherfucking roll. Smoother than a whacked out clown on a unicycle. Smoother than a baby’s ass. Smoother than a fucking smoothie. 

Smoother than a baby ass drinking a smoothie on a unicycle while a creepy cult-y juggalo watches and drools. Honk.

==> I am disturbed

You’re impressed, is what. Ice flows this smooth only come once in a lifetime if you’re not a Badass Irony King Strider, which you are, so this is just another fucking Tuesday. A badass special Tuesday.

You’re the king of Tuesdays, and your friends gasp in amazement and awe as you whip out another stanza of sickass bucket-fucking rhymes.

==> Wait, what

You don’t have time to listening to disbelieving haters, but your godly control of these lyrics, fresh like an apple off the fucking tree and straight into a juicer, is making you feel generous to other, lesser, lamer beings. Ask, oh bolded voice from the beyond.

==> Bucket-fucking is, I’m pretty sure, a troll term

The magic has been broken. Some asshole threw a stone, some goose took wing to the sky, and your party plane of rap is brought low with the pain of a narrative discrepancy.

You will never reach these chillin’, hypnotizin’, tantalizin’ heights again. 

==> Let’s just … be another troll. I don’t like watching this weirdo crying in front of his computer

You are now Gamzee Makara and life is motherfucking great. You have pie, you _don’t_ have a terrifying auspice hovering over you with her up and crazy murder tool, and the light bulb is _motherfucking full of miracles_.

You’re so happy your best brokat is here to share the moment with you. He keeps looking at that light bulb with his most concentration-y face, and you stare with him, content as all motherfuck to share the moment in reverent silence.

It’s like being in church, this moment of bestest companionship and enlightenment.

You up and wonder if Kanaya would be faster than you if you stole her light bulb for your Karbro. He’s so enthralled in it’s mysticisms and miracles than you know he can’t not have it. You wonder if you brought it down and closer for him to study with his adorable scrunched up face, he’d all smile the same smile that you know, _in your deepest motherfucking heart of hearts_ , he made when he found his grumpy little crab-bro.

Your Karbro has the most beautiful of fucking smiles, and it’s an imperial crime, just like the rest of him, that he don’t smile more.

==> Wait WHAT

You are now Tavros Nitram and

==> NO GO BACK WHAT DID THAT JUGGALO SAY

And you are very tired of

==> GO BACK

==> yuor’e now bron troll wiht ht e mind

==> AUUUGHHH

Of people interrupting when it’s your turn to speak. Think. Be in the POV of.

You’ve waited patiently, first from your position on the floor, then your position standing, then again from your position on a new, cleaner floor. But now, your are being rewarded for your patience. Unlike troll Sisyphus, you’ve pushed your stone to the top of the hill of bodies and it has _stayed_. Your time has come. Your time _to ogle_.

==> This guy is pretty creepy

You take _deep offense_ at that. You are not a guy! And you mean, you may be an asshole, you may be kind of scummy, and you might even be kind of a douchebag, but you are not creepy, _especially to your friends_. 

You mean, other than that one time you stalked Aradia and maybe when you kind of maybe pushed someone off a cliff, but those are the only incidents! 

Otherwise you are an absolute angel. A non-creepy angel. An angel who is in no way pestering Terezi to tell you what Karkat tastes like. The words a8solute M4NHUNK POPS1CL3 were in no way used.

After all, the Scourge Sisters are gr8 at hiding evidence. 

Especially when there’s no evidence to hide, because _none of that at all in any way was said_.

It’s the P3RF3CT CR1M3.

You may hate your kismesis but you rest assured in the knowledge that she will always, always be your sister.

==> Can I just

And you refuse in any way to acknowledge the stupid human relationship implications that brings up! Because you are a troll and applying alien expectations to different species is dum8 and you will not stand for it.

And also because the narr8or is stupid and irritating! ;;;;D

==> Hey! Earlier you told me off for “flirting with

Moving on! Perfect crime, manhunk popsicle, awesome sister-kismesis, 8lah 8lah 8lah……..

==> You know what? Fine! Carry on

You think you _absolutely will_ continue to purrtend that Catpurr does not even  E%IST. You have bigger, wetter purroblems and anyways!

It’s compawletely! Normal and regular! For pale purrtners! To do! Pale things!

You shouldn’t be ashamed! Just like you shouldn’t burrow into the pile and refuse to come out!

That is completely juvenile and wriggler-ish and big cats wouldn’t even consider it.

“Nepeta.”

However, if a small kitten by purrchance _did_ do that, it would be purrfectly understandable and no one’s meowrail could judge that kitten fur it.

“Nepeta.”

A purrfect pile of robot purrts and purretty furrs and shipping charts has too strong a lure! Its sturdy demeanor and peculiar odor of safety and sweat calls to cats, big _and_ small to nest deep, deep inside where not even the piercing light of shame can reach.

“Nepeta!”

And it is completely justifiable and udderly understandable if one, who is purrhaps doing so, bites the paw that tries to remove it!

“Nepeta, no!”

==> How about we take a short trip out of the Land of Denial and Avoidance since that’s obviously getting us nowhere

I mean, you haven’t exactly heard Gamzee call someone best friend before, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened! 

You know that Gamzee couldn’t even be faithful to a plastic Cull-Mart bag full of pie and Faygo. Not that there’s anything to be faithful _for_. The bond between you is just a completely average and simple fucking hatefriendship and you’re a kringlefucking nimrod for even considering otherwise!

Anyways, you doubt that a high-as-a-paper-sky-diamond juggalo fuck even knows what moirallegiance _is_. 

Oh god, what if he doesn’t really understand what it is? What if you, in your dumbass state of wishful fucking thing, _have unknowingly been taking advantage of him?!_

No, no! You can’t have! You have only been doing completely normal best-hatefriend things! It doesn’t matter if Gamzee is completely incapable of saying “ _Hey! Back off bro, no pale_!” because you have done! Zero! Pale! Things! You have the roiling furious pale-feels beast in your chest completely under lockdown!

Especially considering there is no fucking beast, because you are perfectly content to remain just best friends with him for the rest of your _short miserable bucket-fucking life_!

And there is! Nothing! To! Skree! About!

==> No, out of this miserable land! Don’t safari deeper in!

Fef took the last chair at Kan’s dinky little table, and you ain’t one to deny your moirail anythin’ so you kinda hover behind her an’ keep an eye on how close Tavros gets when he shifts himself around. Just cause you saw fit to lower yourself to a quadrant with the likes a’ him doesn’t mean he’s allowed to get anywhere near your Heiress.

Your spot behind Fef is good for that, keepin’ eyes on people. You mean, it’s a little hard to see ‘round her mountains of hair, but it also means you can’t be seen, which is currently a thing you’re eelin’ reel big on. Ah-hem. _Feelin’ real_ big on.

==> Because…

And it ain’t at all passé to use your moirail as a body shield. Trolls have been doin’ it for centuries, _an’_ she’s the higher blood than you. It’s her job to protect you an’ all. Especially from strangers. Threatenin’ strangers!

A stranger that make your heart go too fast, and your fins start flutterin’ and your face start flushin’. Those are important signs a’ danger, not to be ignored, an’ as long as you stay safely behind Feferi, she can protect you from the fact that for the first time in basically ever, your longest an’ most endearing flush crush is in the same room as you. An' you are one hundred percent completely not at all prepared.

All and all, you’re takin’ it pretty whale. Well.

==> This safari sucks and I want my money back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAL==> up next, a whole new year and a whole host of new mistakes  
> WOW==> see u next year bye

**Author's Note:**

> hal==> this wasn't my idea. though i will except some of the blame. i live [here](http://half-a-league.tumblr.com/)  
> wow==>yeah this is just so terrible it loops back into just an undefined mix of bad and horrifying. and i live [here](http://kanayadasgray.tumblr.com/)


End file.
